Fever Dreams
by TrueAngelOfMusic
Summary: Dreams can sometimes feel like reality...' One Shot.


Fever Dreams

She lay stretched across the bed, clothed only in the moonlight that poured through her open window like a silver stream. Her hair was fanned out around her head like a dark halo, and her limbs were half entangled in the bed sheets. The summer air hung thick and heavy in the air, moist around her body when she turned in her sleep.

The owl watched from the window, watched his goddess as she lay deep in her slumber, the Fae mind behind endless eyes probing her unconscious mind through her dreams. And she did dream of him. If owls could smile, surely this one did now as he saw her mind's eye unravel before him.

It was that familiar old ballroom, too white it hurt the eyes, too lavish it made your very body feel heavy, and the strange adult world to which she didn't belong. She was 15 again, carried and buffeted by the strangers in the room, adults playing at being goblins and passing secretive whispers behind their painted faces. He felt her mind quiver as she recalled even her feelings at that moment in such vivid detail. But then she saw him, and he felt such strong emotion surge within her, the strong, stubborn but lovely heart that he desired. She saw him, and confusion washed over her first, followed by a wave of embarrassment, and he remembered the glow her cheeks gave as they flushed pink. Then came a strange fire which started in the pit of her belly, and spread along her body when he touched her, even with gloved fingertips, and she didn't know what it was or how to feel. All at once, innocence had been lost…

There was a breeze now, and the owl came to the window carrying the cool air of somewhere far distant on his wings. Her body tensed and arched as she felt it on her skin, but she never stirred. Suddenly there was no owl, only him. The summer night's heat intensified, and somewhere in her subconscious she could feel him, the very air moving to make way for this power that radiated from him. A hand gripped her sheets as he plunged deeper into her mind, immersing himself there.

"_Sweet dreams, precious…"_

The ballroom emptied and he was leading her to the lavish cushions that littered the floor, there was a large impression in the floor filled with them as if it were a nest. She was no longer the girl of 15, but the woman she was now. Briefly, her eyelid flickered, but then she was still, now far too absorbed in her dream. His arms wound around her and nimble fingers caught in the lacings of the back of her dress, and with slow, careful deliberation he undressed her…

As he stood over her, watching and playing out her dream for her, he felt the fire in her belly flare again. She understood it now. She wanted it now, just as he knew she would. He hated to act this way, almost against her will, but it was less pain. A lot less pain for both of them if it was in dreams, since dreams never hurt anyone. He stooped to touch her, and flicked a single fingertip to catch a stray strand of her hair and stroke it from her face. The hand travelled along her cheekbone, caressing her face and following her jaw line, all the way to her beautiful, stubborn, little chin. He leaned ever closer, and felt the heat from her body enrage the flame inside him. Sparks could fly between them in this heat. His tongue parted his lips, and curled around the shell of her ear, his cool breath on the side of her face sent tremors through her mind as he echoed the action in her dream. In her mind their bodies were pressed close, flush against each other, muscle, heat, passion and magic tense in the air. A smile flickered across his face and his fingers traced ever lower, scattering patterns across her abdomen and in her dream, he stood behind her, surrounding her, as she arched her back to let the shivers of pleasure run down her. Something growled within her as his hand began to travel along her thigh, his lips peppering her shoulders and back with butterfly's kisses even lighter and more heavenly than she had imagined before. And the sensation… It was although she was living it.

His mouth moulded to the shape of her neck, and he kissed her again, pausing afterwards to watch the run of gooseflesh that raced down her body, knowing in her mind that every nerve was on fire, every touch lit a new flame against her skin. Her cheeks were flushed now, even in sleep. He touched them softly, and continued to press his lips against her skin, open mouthed so only the pressure was applied ever so lightly, and only the cool air and magical tang was left on her neck. He felt her shudder under his hand, and her eyelids flickered again before opening. She was groggy with the induced sleep he had granted her, the feverish dreams that had woken her.

"Jareth…"

He put a finger to her lips and her eyes darkened, suddenly very awake. She gazed up at him defiantly, never faltering when his eyes glowed with a passion she was surprised hers matched.

Her fingers caught in his hair, a texture like silk and moonbeams, pale in the midnight, and he wrapped himself around her and pulled her close. Their breath caught for a moment as their faces touched, and the heat around them threatened to ignite. Her eyes searched his, the beautiful, feline and terrifying eyes she couldn't tear herself away from. Finally, his lips caught hers and pressed against them with an urgency she reciprocated. Inwardly sighing, her lips parted and his tongue wound against hers, deepening their kiss, pushing further and plunging them both into their fantasies. She was aware of a metallic tang, almost like putting a battery in your mouth, mixed with spice and heat…

He tasted like magic.


End file.
